


Engaged in Combat

by ospreyghost13



Category: Naruto
Genre: Cute, M/M, Mutual Pining, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19131289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ospreyghost13/pseuds/ospreyghost13
Summary: Shikamaru asks Naruto to teach him how to fight. One on one lessons, after training ramen, and casual contact leave Naruto surprisingly flustered.





	1. Naruto

People assumed Naruto wasn’t a good listener because of his intrinsic need for attention, from his flashy clothes and hair to his pranks and his promises—but years of growing up in solitude had made him an expert people-watcher. Naruto watched Ino braid flowers into Sakura’s choppy hair, her fingers caressing the other girl’s scalp. He watched Choji give warm, tight bear-hugs to everyone he met, ruffling Kiba’s gelled hair and squeezing Hinata’s delicate hands till she turned red. Ino and Choji seemed to treat contact with their third team member Shikamaru, as a mild annoyance, but they would gladly sidle into the booth at their favorite barbeque joint and press against Shikamaru, sandwiching his broad shoulders between them. It was well known village gossip that Gaara’s sister, the scorching blonde Temari, was rather fond of Shikamaru Nara, and they had undeniable chemistry. Yet, Shikamaru would walk by her side with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his head bent and cigarette hanging lazily from his lips—a cold, unreachable island. In all the years of knowing him, Naruto never saw Shikamaru dole out affection towards anyone.  
It was a stark contrast from Naruto’s gestures with Team 7; he used to brush arms with Sasuke while walking and bickering, remembered their brief accidental kisses and casual one- armed hugs. He leaned against Sakura while sharing meals, often stealing food off her plate and feeding her his vegetables with his chopsticks. As genin, it was common for him to throw his arms around both of his friends as they trotted together to their next adventure. It was rare to see Shikamaru voluntarily touch anyone at all.  
That’s why he was flabbergasted when his friend, the smartest ninja of the generation, came to him of all people for training. It’s true that Naruto was more skilled in hand-to-hand combat than most shinobi his age—while nowhere near Lee’s taijutsu prowess, he was a better fighter than average. He was well versed in kicking ass by the tender age of 17. But still, Naruto was nowhere near qualified enough to become Shikamaru Nara’s private combat trainer. Shikamaru, who became a genin at age 12, who singlehandedly took down an entire enemy base at 13—Shikamaru the boy who was now standing in front of Naruto stripped of his flak jacket and cloak, a lithe and cynical 17-year-old genius.

Though the Nara clan was known for their holy deer, Shikamaru had always reminded Naruto of a cat instead. His eyes, dark and narrow, were always half lidded, and his angular cheeks and jaw were always held lax. His unruly hair was reminiscent of a black cat’s tail, flicking disinterestedly. Even his signature crouched stance for his shadow jutsu was like a prowling cat— with his long limbs arranged artfully under him and his sly smirk overshadowed by his dark eyes and brows. He was a ninja that almost never required taijutsu, so his desire to learn how to physically fight seemed particularly out of character. Someone too lazy to sit up straight wasn’t a good candidate for muscle building exercise. Despite this, Naruto couldn’t imagine turning Shikamaru down.

Their first session consisted mostly of Naruto chatting nervously, simply to fill the silence. Silence with Shikamaru was never uncomfortable; in fact Naruto enjoyed when they would occasionally lie in the grass together and cloud watch as children. He remembered how the other kids found him repulsive, yet Shikamaru seemed disinterested and only mildly annoyed by Naruto’s presence—he never complained when young Naruto would join him in his favorite, lazy hobby.  
But now that he was the mentor to someone so much smarter than him, Naruto’s nerves began to grind his otherwise infallible self-confidence. After all, despite all these years, Naruto remained a genin while Shikamaru became the village’s youngest jonin.

It wasn’t until Shikamaru—shirtless, sweaty and fully out of breath—punched him square across the face during one of their exercises that Naruto finally felt all the tension and expectations leave him at once. He grinned at his student, and for the first time Shikamaru cracked a genuine smile, crooked and bright. 

The two boys continued to meet and spar when they could—Naruto remained busy training with Kakashi and Yamato to develop more powerful jutsus, and Shikamaru was in charge of strategizing several missions with the hokage’s office. Towards nightfall, they would meet to train in their old academy training gym. More often then not, they’d grab a bowl of ramen together afterwards where Naruto would ramble and Shikamaru would complain. Naruto soon grew comfortable with Shikamaru’s consistent whining and brooding silences, with the tails of smoke that left his lips as he exhaled and the flutter of his lashes when he sarcastically rolled his eyes. He learned that Shikamaru was a voracious gossip, a pessimistic bastard, and a very kind person. Despite his busy schedule and chronic slothfulness, he volunteered with multiple programs in the village and took care of his elderly family members, and he always fed the village strays. His distinctive, slouching form became a familiar and welcome sight.

Despite a month of regular training, Naruto had yet to gain the courage to touch him beyond their brief contact when sparring. If it were Kiba or Tenten or Sakura, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw his arm around their shoulders or bump knees or hug them goodbye. He thought sporadically about Temari of the Sand, and the heat filled glances she shared with Shikamaru whenever Gaara visited the hokage. Sometimes while dueling, Shikamaru would cast a broad shadow jutsu over Naruto, enveloping him in darkness. Though it effectively paralyzed him, the shadow smelled like Shikamaru; it was soothingly cool, and felt almost liked a full body embrace. Though most of his dreams still consisted of rescuing Sasuke and becoming hokage, he couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to hold Shikamaru in his arms sometimes.

Since their training took place late in the evening, it wasn’t until halfway into their second month that their friends realized how close Shikamaru and Naruto had become. This bewildering pair caused a ripple of gossip among their class, and it wasn’t long before the two were confronted before training by Ino and Sakura. When Ino asked what was up between them, it was Shikamaru that surprised them all.

“We’re engaged!” Shikamaru exclaimed with an uncharacteristically broad grin, while making an even more uncharacteristic lunge for Naruto’s hand. Standing hand in hand with him was alarmingly comfortable, and Naruto almost missed the bewildered gasps of the girls.  
“You two dumbasses are engaged?”  
Shikamaru’s hand was softer than his, less calloused and cool in his palm. They were standing shoulder to shoulder; Naruto could feel Shikamaru’s weight pressing into him. He smelled like linen and campfire.  
“Engaged...in COMBAT!”  
As if a rug was pulled from under him, the world tilts as Naruto suddenly finds himself flat on his back. Shikamaru had smoothly flipped him over using the hand that Naruto still clasped, flinging him over his shoulder in a skillful move that Naruto had taught him only last week. Chakra flowed between their palms, Naruto’s hot and fiery and Shikamaru’s cool and smooth. He knew he was flushing, only partially from the embarrassment of being tossed like a ragdoll by Konoha’s laziest, notoriously most hands-off shinobi.  
“I’m teaching Shikamaru how to be strong and cool like me, “ Naruto sputtered, still on his back. “Believe it!”  
“Clearly you’re out of your league dumbass”  
“Yeah, aren’t you still a genin? Didn’t you almost die during the Chunin exams?”  
“Are you two gay? Are you dating? What about Temari?”  
The girls were like a two-headed sphinx, attacking Naruto’s pride with their chatter.  
“Huh, this is such a draaaaag. I haven’t got time for any of that. Naruto’s just helping me train, so let us get back to training so I can go home” Shikamaru’s familiar drawl was unshaken, but even from his vantage point on the ground Naruto could see his high cheekbones blush and his mouth remained twisted into that odd grin, showing off his sharp canines.   
His hand remained in Naruto’s till the girls wandered off, still chatting about them. It stayed in his while he heaved Naruto to his feet, both of them finally standing and facing each other. They held hands all the way to the training gym, where Naruto proceeded to have his ass kicked and ended up giving Shikamaru top marks—there was nothing more to teach him.

“I guess we don’t need to do anything like this anymore, huh Shika? You can go back to playing shogi and saving the village now,” Naruto gave him his usual bright smile, genuinely proud of his mentee.  
Surprisingly, Shikamaru remained silent, taking the last drag of his cigarette. Then, without crouching, he slowly formed the hand seal for his favorite shadow jutsu. The blackness leaked onto the ground, slowly crossing the few feet of distance between the two boys; Naruto felt his cool chakra lapping at him, so he closed his eyes and made no motion to move. Naruto had complete trust in his friend; he let the cool shadow swallow him.

This time however, he could feel the shadow split into hands, just like the long fingers of Shikamaru’s own soft hands. Shadow hands traveled up his body, cradled his head, brushed his tanned jaw—Naruto felt a shadow cheek press against his and shadow lips kiss his softly. They both stood perfectly still, the sunset casting their shadows long and inky. All at once, the jutsu broke and Naruto was able to snap his eyes open, to gasp at Shikamaru who still stood a few feet across from him, statuesque. He hadn’t actually moved at all. Naruto realized with a pang of disappointment that he had yet to feel Shikamaru's real touch. A beat of contented silence passed, before Shikamaru turned to go, taking his shadows with him.

“Goodnight, Naruto”, he drawled over his shoulder, already moving to light his next cigarette. Naruto walked home, smiling to himself and smelling like smoke.


	2. Shikamaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shikamaru thinks about his new taijutsu coach and his longterm crush.

When his father asked Shikamaru to develop his hand-on-hand combat by training with Naruto, Shikamaru was far from surprised. The general curiosity of the village, especially among the older generations, had spiked exponentially since Naruto’s return to the village and his defeat of Pein. His multiplying powers were both a wonder and a cause for concern, it wasn’t strange that the government was eager to determine just how high Naruto’s strength reached. And Shikamaru, being a candidate for the next hokage, was the perfect spy to learn Naruto’s limits and desires.

Beyond defining how physically powerful Naruto may be, Shikamaru had his own motives for agreeing to this somewhat humbling assignment. He’d be lying if he hadn’t been curious about Naruto himself—he had always been curious about Naruto. Out of all the Konoha 12, it was Naruto and Hinata that seemed to change the most since graduating the academy. Rock Lee, the taijutsu extraordinaire, remained exactly the same over the last 4 years. Kiba and Choji stayed the same too, just with longer hair and bigger appetites. Ino grew even leggier; Sakura grew even rougher around the edges. Shino slowly became more sociable, even going as far as to introduce his many bugs to others. Neiji and Tenten grew into their own sphere, honing their individual crafts to the point of isolation. Of course, Sasuke was in fuck-knows-where doing fuck-knows-what, but whatever he was up to had an iron grip on Naruto and Sakura’s hearts. Sweet small Hinata grew more beautiful and feminine every day—the boyish figure of her youth disappeared, yet her timid nature and wide lilac eyes remained. She was happier, fuller and more talkative than she used to be, more comfortable with touching others and being touched. Then there was Naruto.

Shikamaru had always liked Naruto. The strange, lonely, mischievous demon that vandalized the village and cried for attention like a baby bird always caught his eye. He lived alone, which young Shikamaru was jealous of. Shikamaru would have loved to be left alone, rather than badgered by his overachieving parents. When he grew older, Shikamaru understood that Naruto’s lack of family was a tragedy rather than a blessing, but this only made him appreciate Naruto’s drive and ability more. Obviously, Shikamaru would never show any of this appreciation towards the village idiot so clearly, even as a young child. He would always cherish cloudwatching with Naruto on rare occasions when Naruto wasn’t bouncing off the walls, and during the Chunin exams he was genuinely impressed with Naruto’s power. He waited silently by Naruto’s bedside in the hospital the first time he fell into a coma, and when Naruto awoke it was Shikamaru who was there first, waiting faithfully by his bedside.

It wasn’t until he experienced his first kiss with Temari, at age 15, that Shikamaru realized that he may harbor more than simple appreciation for Naruto. The gorgeous, fiery Temari of the Sand was an older woman, stronger, cooler, and infinitely more beautiful than gangly, surly Shikamaru. And yet, it was Temari who first kissed him. To his surprised, he felt no emotion. Since Temari, a perfect girl, failed to affect Shikamaru at all, he logically decided that maybe girls just weren’t for him. It would certainly explain his longstanding affinity for Neiji’s silky hair, or Lee’s bulging muscles...or Naruto’s bright grin.

Naruto, like Hinata, changed drastically since he left. He grew tall and tan, weathered and rugged. It wasn’t surprising that he was a wind type ninja—his skin was rough and strong like he had been in the mountain wind for years. His hair was bleached and constantly windswept, and he filled out his neon baggy clothes with his long legs and strong arms. For every part of Shikamaru that was soft and dark, Naruto was rough and brilliant. Shikamaru knew Naruto followed Sakura with his puppy dog eyes and a drooling tongue, but his unyielding passion for  
Konoha’s pretty boy (Sasuke) could not be ignored. He decided that Naruto might be affected by both of his best friends. This gave Shikamaru a tiny sliver of hope when it came to Naruto, the village’s most special ninja.

Training with Naruto was easy. The physical workout of course was not—Shikamaru barely passed taijutsu training 4 years ago, and was no more physically fit than he was at age 12. Naruto’s exercises made him sweat and curse and regret agreeing to any of this, because it certainly was a drag, and Shikamaru often imagined how nice it’d be to lie in the grass and nap while lifting weights under Naruto’s watchful gaze. But beyond the bodily pain, training with Naruto was the best part of his day. He never acted excited to see Naruto, but it wasn’t long before Shikamaru noticed his heart rate rocket as soon as he saw the orange blur of Naruto approaching in the distance.

After about a week or so of training, Shikamaru completed his mission by writing a detailed report of Naruto’s physical prowess. He resisted waxing poetic about Naruto’s lean muscles, soft belly, and how his wet hair stuck to the back of his neck. Instead, he accurately created a graph that predicted Naruto’s chakra growth using data from his observations of the Kyuubi chakra and Naruto’s own exertion during their training.  
Despite this, Shikamaru continued meeting up with Naruto almost every night. At first he told himself it was because of the muscle he had started gaining on his arms and shoulders, and how his abs grew more visible week to week. But this effect was almost immediately offset when they’d go out for ramen after almost every workout, and Shikamaru guzzled down sodium broth while watching Naruto gesture enthusiastically with his chopsticks and chatter across from him. He observed Naruto’s bright eyes, freckled cheeks, his constantly chapped and smiling lips.  
Shikamaru felt a sharp jolt in his lower gut every time he brushed a tendril of Naruto’s chakra while sparring or just with an accidental touch—soon, Shikamaru started purposely leaning away from him. He kept a distance, besides from while training, and yet he didn’t stop seeing Naruto regularly and sharing meals with the rowdy boy. To his mild surprise, Shikamaru found that he truly enjoyed Naruto’s company, no matter how bothersome he could become.

Over time, Shikamaru noticed Naruto’s aborted attempts to make contact. He subtly watched from his hooded eyes how Naruto would make a motion to brush his shoulder, or clasp his arm, but stop suddenly just before touching him. He stood stiffly as Naruto almost hugged him once, overjoyed with a particular maneuver that Shikamaru had finally mastered. Shikamaru, a definite idiot, found himself motionless every time Naruto seemed to lean into his space, every time they seemed to hold each others’ gazes too long. Shika, you’re a dumbass, he thought often while lying in bed. Despite being told that he was the smartest ninja of his generation, he simply could not touch Naruto without wanting to scream.

Eventually they were found out. Of course, Sakura probably knew that Shikamaru had started training with Naruto as an assignment, since she was the hokage’s apprentice. She thankfully did not comment on it, and Shikamaru gladly endured her and Ino’s brief pestering to return back to solitude with Naruto. He didn’t realize he was holding Naruto’s hand until they finally let go, and his palm stung with sudden coldness. Immediately he regretted his entire course of action—for goading Ino and Sakura, for flipping Naruto into the dirt, for holding his hand, for agreeing to train at all in the first place. How easy would Shikamaru’s life be without Naruto’s blustering presence??—what a drag.

In the future, Shikamaru knew what would happen. Someone as clever as him was good at hypotheses—he knew Naruto loved others more than he ever loved Shikamaru. He knew Naruto’s connection to Sasuke was beyond human—something spiritual and mystical determined  
by magic and jutsu and fate. It was undeniable that Naruto and Sasuke’s lives were meant to be intertwined, and Naruto would gladly burn down all his bridges to have Sasuke back. He also knew Naruto’s longtime crush on Sakura wasn’t just a fluke, it was a friendship based on true loyalty and love. He knew Hinata’s love for Naruto was a powerful force, and one day he might open his eyes to the potential of beautiful, graceful Hinata and everything she could offer him. Naruto had barely grown into his own skin, how could Shikamaru expect him to understand any feelings outside himself? In almost every sense, Shikamaru didn’t stand a fucking chance when it came to this magnetic, dorky, handsome young man. Still, he knew even if Naruto could never love him like Sasuke or Sakura or Hinata, no one else would ever be able to love him like Shikamaru did.

As it turned out, no one stopped him when he and Naruto stood outside the training grounds, the bloody sunset sinking behind them. No one stopped him as he tilted his head towards Naruto, his heart trilling slightly as Naruto called him Shika and gave him his luminous grin. There was no one around when Shikamaru noticed the slight waver in Naruto’s voice, or his instinctual sway towards his body heat. Instead of grabbing him right there and kissing him senseless, Shikamaru decided to exercise ultimate control—control over his shadow. After all, he was a genius.  
His shadow felt like a ghostly version of himself, a dark and velvety hint of what his real body would be feeling. He felt a gentle trace of Naruto’s hard muscles, his heavy arms. Naruto felt like a plush doll under his light shadow fingers. He felt the barest suggestion of Naruto’s rough cheeks, his soft hair, his scars pressed against Shikamaru’s own red cheeks as he nuzzled into his face. He could barely feel it as he kissed Naruto’s lips, or pressed his forehead against his, or breathed softly into his mouth. He pulled back suddenly, again immediately regretting his actions. But then he noticed—that Naruto had kept his eyes closed the whole time. This gesture, though small, showed Shikamaru just how much Naruto trusted him: as a jonin, a ninja, and a friend. Here was the most powerful ninja in the world, closing his eyes for Shikamaru’s soft touch. Immediately Shikamaru relaxed; he knew Naruto believed in him, if nothing else.

Everything will be ok, Shikamaru thought dully, his mind foggy with the ghostly kiss. He didn’t leave Naruto with much, but he knows damn well that they would be able to pick this up again later, without hard feelings. He knew Naruto wasn’t upset with him for shadow kissing him. All he felt was a sense of peace; the same way he felt when he first decided to follow Naruto anywhere. He remembered sitting with his father on their porch, shortly after Asuma’s death, talking about Naruto’s brave new vision—Shikamaru had promised that he would be by Naruto’s side, to follow him as a leader and as a dear friend. With the soft imprint of Naruto’s lips still on his, Shikamaru knew that his promise rang true.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first and only fanfiction and I love my son Naruto. Yee haw


End file.
